


Bewitched

by Traviosita9124



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jemma POV, chilling adventures of sabrina au, half-witch jemma, mortal fitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 20:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16625516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traviosita9124/pseuds/Traviosita9124
Summary: Now, with him walking next to her, everything felt sharper. She could sense where Fitz was without looking at him, knew that if she stretched her fingers out just the slightest bit, they’d brush the back of his hand. Jemma wondered for a moment if his skin would be warm, but quickly stopped herself from going too far down that path. Nothing good would come of it. She’d be having her dark baptism on Friday and that would be it; there’d be no movies or dates with Fitz. She’d be out of his life without saying a word, likely leaving him hurt and confused.The thought alone was enough to break her heart.





	Bewitched

**Author's Note:**

> I recently started watching Chilling Adventures of Sabrina on Netflix and was quickly bit by a plot bunny that wouldn't go away. I just really like the idea of a half-witch Jemma Simmons and Fitz as her Harvey with other characters filling in. Things have been tweaked from the show to better fit Jemma and Fitz as characters. 
> 
> I'm still working my way through episodes, so this very well may turn into a longer series depending on how I feel about it. I just really liked this idea and needed to clear this scene from my brain, and figured that if I could do that and see how the rest of fandom feels about this as an AU, there was nothing to lose. 
> 
> Enjoy!

The gravel and leaves crunched under their feet as they strolled down their usual path home, the sound nearly deafening in her heightened state. She couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened last night. Fitz had walked her home from the movie, all the way up to the porch of the mortuary. He’d never done that before, always claiming that just knowing bodies were in the basement was enough to make his skin crawl. 

 

But last night, he’d come right onto the first step, standing nose to nose with her, his cheeks flushed and an uncertain smile curling his lips. He’d asked her on a date then, an actual, proper date, not just hanging out with Daisy and Piper, and Jemma could have sworn her heart had flown right out of her chest with excitement. She’d said yes immediately and had savored every second of the best (if awkward) hug she’d ever received in her life. 

 

Now, with him walking next to her, everything felt sharper. She could sense where Fitz was without looking at him, knew that if she stretched her fingers out just the slightest bit, they’d brush the back of his hand. Jemma wondered for a moment if his skin would be warm, but quickly stopped herself from going too far down that path. Nothing good would come of it. She’d be having her dark baptism on Friday and that would be it; there’d be no movies or dates with Fitz. She’d be out of his life without saying a word, likely leaving him hurt and confused. 

 

The thought alone was enough to break her heart. 

 

Jemma risked glancing at him and was just about to open her mouth to tell him everything when Fitz spoke first. 

 

“So, Friday… Are y’ sure there’s no chance we could celebrate your birthday? Just us, I mean. Y’ know,  _ together _ .”

 

His eyes were so blue and hopeful that Jemma had to bite her lip to keep from shouting  _ yes!  _ on the spot. Her aunties would never forgive her for embarrassing them in front of the coven. Or at least Auntie Victoria wouldn’t. 

 

“I wish I could Fitz, but I already promised my aunts. And it’s just not something I can put off or postpone for another day.”

 

He sighed, his hands coming up to grab both of the straps of his backpack as they ambled along, his mouth twisting into a pout. 

 

“I just don’t understand why y’  _ have  _ t’ do it. It doesn’t seem like y’ really  _ want  _ t’. And it’s  _ your  _ 16th birthday. Y’ should be able t’ celebrate it how y’ want. There’s the eclipse that night.” He looked down at his shoes, cheeks tinging pink. “I thought, well, I thought we might watch it together, if y’ wanted. Thought it might be a nice first date.”

 

Jemma looked up at him and then quickly looked away, guilt stabbing through her chest. The date he was describing sounded absolutely heavenly, and she badly wanted to go, but it didn’t seem fair to Fitz. Not when she would be disappearing on him that very night. She thought of what Lance had told her, the lie that she should use about going to boarding school to help ease things for her mortal friends. Hoping that she might kill two birds with one stone, she took a deep breath and tried to end the best thing that had ever happened to her before it even really started. 

 

“The thing is, Fitz, the event Friday… It’s more an obligation than anything else. There’s just no moving it. It’s important. To my aunts. And to me.”

 

He gave her a skeptical look and kicked at a rock in their path. They both watched as it skittered off the trail and into the grass. 

 

“So important that y’ have t’ miss your birthday though?”

 

“It’s not so much about my birthday,” she told him, brow furrowing as she searched for the words, “but rather what comes after. I- I’m leaving. For a boarding school in Connecticut.” They stopped walking and Jemma watched as Fitz turned to face her, his jaw dropping in shock at what she’d said. Desperate to fix it, she began speaking more quickly over his sounds of protest. “My aunts are dropping me off Friday night, right after our...event. It’s an amazing opportunity that I just can’t say no to, Fitz.”

 

There was a beat as his jaw worked, the color strengthening in his cheeks as he sorted through his thoughts. 

 

“In the middle o’ the school year? That’s crazy, Jemma. And just where is this school? What’s its name? Can I come visit y’, at least?” And why haven’t y’ ever mentioned it t’ any o’ us?” When she didn’t answer him, Fitz plowed on. “This, this might be totally cracked for me t’ say, but it feels like you’re hidin’ somethin’ from me, Jemma. I thought I was your best friend. Y’ shouldn’t need t’ hide things from your best friend.”

 

Jemma had always been a terrible liar and she knew her story had been weak the moment it had slipped out. Damn Lance and his half-baked ideas. Being cooped up in the mortuary was doing strange things to his brain. Or at the very least it wasn’t sharpening his abilities in espionage. Nibbling on her lower lip, she looked into Fitz’ eyes and knew she couldn’t lie to him. She had to at least try to tell him the truth. 

 

“I’m not hiding anything, Fitz. I promise. It’s just hard to explain is all.” 

 

He didn’t look happy to hear that, but at least his shoulders relaxed and his combative air had eased. 

 

“Just try, Jemma. That’s all I ask.”

 

She glanced to the side and saw a path leading deeper into the woods. Jemma knew exactly where that path would lead them and an idea began to form. A risky one, but one worth trying in her opinion. Fitz was as scientifically minded as she, and being able to have tangible proof - or at least something close to it - would help her case with him. 

 

“I will, Fitz, but I think it might be better if I show you.” Inhaling deeply to gather her nerve, Jemma reached out to take him by the hand. She was dimly aware that it was as warm as she’d imagined and nicer to hold than she could have believed, but she couldn’t properly focus on it at the moment. “Come with me.”

 

She lead him down the path without speaking, moving quickly into the deepest part of the forest, where the canopy was so thick it made it difficult for light to filter down to the floor. Fitz was thankfully silent and followed her without question, easily matching her pace with his slightly longer strides. 

 

After a few minutes, they came to the clearing, settled into the deepest, darkest part of the wood. A chill ran along Jemma’s spine as she realized that Fitz was likely the first mortal to come here since her mother ages ago. She knew what she was risking bringing him here, but he was worth it. Both as her friend and as the possibility of more. 

 

She walked around the large stump in the center and spoke in hushed tones, afraid to call too much attention to the fact that they were there. 

 

“I love this place,” she told Fitz, her lips twitching briefly upward. “I’ve always found it peaceful, but maybe… Maybe that’s because this is where I was born. Right here, in this clearing.” She saw Fitz’ face twist in confusion, his mouth open to voice a question, and shook him off. “No, not Greendale General,  _ here _ . And Friday night, on my 16th birthday, I’ll be reborn here under the eclipsing blood moon.”

 

“What? Jemma, you’re not makin’ any sense.  _ Reborn _ ? Reborn how?”

 

“It’s called a dark baptism, but I promise, it’s not as bad as it sounds. It’s kind of like a bat mitzvah or quinceanera. It means, I’m leaving my girlhood behind.”

 

Fitz gave a disbelieving chuckle and took a half step back, his eyes scanning the grove around them. 

 

“Really? Here? In the woods? Is, that some kind o’, o’ metaphor, or-”

 

“Fitz,” she said, cleanly cutting him off. “Do you remember what we learned in history at the beginning of the year? How Greendale had witch trials, just like Salem but no one ever memorialized them? No court records or tombstones or plaques for visitors to come and gawk at.” He swallowed and nodded, his eyes going a bit wide as he held her gaze. Jemma was struck by how beautifully dark blue they were, even in his place where so little light came through, but pushed on. “That’s because that’s how the witches wanted it. How the coven wanted it. So they -  _ we  _ \- could live in peace.”

 

“We?” he asked, his voice breaking a bit on the single syllable. 

 

“We,” Jemma confirmed. “I’m a witch, Fitz. Well, half-witch. On my father’s side. I’m telling you that witches are real, Fitz, and that my father was a warlock. And that on Friday, after my baptism, I’ll be one, too. I’ll have to leave to go to the Academy of Unseen Arts and renounce any and all connection to morals and their world.” 

 

“What?” 

 

Fitz finally found his tongue and his tone was a heartbreaking mix of incredulous and sad. All Jemma could do was look at him as she fought against the lump in her throat. She wanted to be honest with him but hated that it was causing him so much pain. 

 

“There are so many delicious things about being a witch,” she told him, briefly closing her eyes against the tears that were forming “but the bitterest is knowing that I have to leave you, Fitz.”

 

His face twisted then, his hurt transforming to anger in the blink of an eye as he backed further away from her and shook his head in disbelief. 

 

“What- Jemma, where is this comin’ from? Is it because y’ don’t really want t’ go on a date?”

 

“No, Fitz, I-”

 

“Because if that’s it, just tell me. I swear, I can get over it, go back t’ the way things were before, but don’t  _ lie  _ t’ me like this.”

 

Jemma was watching her world crumble and panic began whirring through her brain as Fitz moved away from her. Every sharp line of his face felt like a slap, knowing she’d caused him so much pain and all because she’d selfishly tried to tell him the truth. Her aunties and Lance had been right. Mortals couldn’t be made to understand, but despite that, Jemma couldn’t give up on or let go of Fitz. 

 

“Fitz, I’m not lying!”

 

“Really, Jemma? You’re tellin’ me that you’re a witch? Sorry, a half-witch? That’s a lot t’ take in, Jemma, particularly on short notice.”

 

He turned away from her fully, his pace quickening as he made to come back the way they’d come. Jemma moved on instinct, the familiar tingle she associated with her magic sparking in her arms as she reached out to turn Fitz back toward her. 

 

“So, forget I said anything then.” She caught him by the shoulder and turned him around, her hands coming up to frame his face. Jemma could feel the shock of her touching him so intimately run through him, but couldn’t think about it too much. She was too busy trying to fix what she’d broken. “Fitz, listen to my voice, hear my words, and forget I said anything.” Her eyes shut as she rushed through the improvised spell, hoping with every fiber of her being that it would work. 

 

“Bless your mind, bless your heart, let these painful thoughts depart.”

 

“Wait-”

 

Then, before she could second guess herself, Jemma lifted up onto her toes and pressed her mouth to Fitz’, sealing the spell with a kiss. She wasn’t certain why she’d done it, other than pure panic that it wouldn’t work and this would be her last and only chance to kiss her best friend. He felt him stiffen momentarily before relaxing against her as her hand wound into his curls. She wanted the moment seared onto her brain, wanting to hold onto it if it was really going to be her last memory of him. 

 

It couldn’t last forever though, and eventually she had to relinquish her hold on him and step away. Fitz’ eyes blinked open slowly. He looked dazed, and while part of Jemma wished it was because of the fact that she’d kissed him, she knew better. He was shaking off the after effects of the supernatural. Her spell at worked, and as much as she wished she hadn’t had to use it, she knew it was for the best. 

 

“Jemma, I- What- Did y’ just kiss me?”

 

“Er,” she began, “yes, I did. Is that all right?”

 

He nodded, looking around and clearly trying to figure out where they were. 

 

“Why? And where the bloody hell are we?”

 

“We took a different way home and got lost,” she answered, trusting that he was dazed enough that even her poor lying would pass muster. “And I kissed you because I wanted to. Have wanted to, for quite some time.”

 

He smiled at her, one of those warm, amazed smiles that made Jemma’s heart flutter in her chest and drew her toward him like iron to a magnet. 

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, really,” she told him, taking his hand in hers. She tried to focus on the warmth of his fingers against hers now that she could, the few calluses on his hands from the inventions he created in his room. It helped keep her mind off her racing heart and the near miss they’d just suffered. “And I hope you’ll let me do it again.”

 

“Only if y’ let me take y’ out,” he told her as they drifted out of the grove. “If not Friday, than first thing Saturday mornin’.”

 

“Of course, Fitz. I’d love that. Saturday morning. It’s a date.” The lie slid easily off her tongue, even as it broke her heart to know that date would never come. She would just have to enjoy the few days they had left together and hope she stored enough memories to keep her satisfied. “But first, finish walking me home.” 


End file.
